


Rise of the Mutants One-Shots #2: The Devil Drinks Darjeeling

by KaiserKris



Series: Rise of the Mutants One-Shots [2]
Category: X-Men (Comicverse), X-Men - All Media Types
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-20
Updated: 2016-04-20
Packaged: 2018-06-03 08:52:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6604558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KaiserKris/pseuds/KaiserKris
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Weapon X program continues without Weapon X himself. A scientist struck by conscience tries to save a little girl born to be a weapon. </p><p>In their way? The devil himself. </p><p>Make no mistake, this is an extremely grim piece of fic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rise of the Mutants One-Shots #2: The Devil Drinks Darjeeling

All that the Doctor had done when Sarah Kinney told him that the program had to be terminated was to make tea for them- a Darjeeling blend, delicate and fragrant, he said. Earl Grey was broadly acceptable of course. However, a really good tea didn’t require any flavourings at all. Dr. Nathaniel Essex insisted on her trying “just a little milk” in it, though he confessed that sugar was entirely a matter of personal discretion. He served the tea on delicate china, which he explained was a family heirloom from the Victorian Era. 

 

“People speak of Assam black teas as the finest, but I’ve always preferred Darjeeling. Don’t you agree, Sarah?” Essex chuckled softly. “Don’t worry, you’ll agree soon enough.” 

  
He hadn’t raised his voice once or expressed the slightest emotion of any sort, and yet, there was something terrifying about the way he delicately stirred the cup before handing it to her. 

 

“You wish to terminate the project, just as X-23 is maturing nicely? The accelerated growth appears to have been flawless. Memory induction and training has been similarly successful.” He sipped his tea as if they were chatting about the most recent croquet match. It was all that Sarah could do to keep her hands from shaking. Essex’s dark eyes regarded her calmly. “You’ll forgive me, Sarah, but it all seems … odd.” 

 

“Dr. Essex, she’s … she’s a girl. A young woman. A child. I thought in the beginning we were creating a nameless, faceless creature, but it’s not like that. I want the program to be terminated.” She forced herself to take a sip of the tea without spilling it all over herself. His very lack of emotional reaction was disturbing her. It would have been far easier had he been angry. “Her name is Laura.” 

 

“Laura.” Essex made it sound as if he were weighing the word for the first time, or rendering judgement on a varietal of wine he’d never had before. “A lovely name. Classical. However, she was created as a living weapon. A killer. You knew that was going to be the case. You participated in every step of the program.” He delicately omitted the full dimensions of her participation, which she’d been compensated for handsomely. 

 

The tea was excellent. She hated that the tea was excellent. It would be easier if the tea was terrible. 

 

“Biscuit?” Essex asked mildly, pushing a plate forward, filled with pale golden shortbread. “Annie made them.” He chuckled softly.  _ He has a daughter too. Eleven or twelve. Silvery hair and blue eyes.  _ Of course, Sarah had never seen her, but he spoke frequently of her. Never of her mother, though. She hadn’t dared to ask. 

 

Sarah took a biscuit, cursing herself for wanting to be as inoffensive as possible. It would have been better if she screamed, if she raged. But it was all she could do to sip her tea and eat her cookies. There was something in his bland inoffensive demeanour that she found absolutely terrifying, but he’d not demonstrated a single reason for her to feel that way. 

 

“Dr. Essex.” Sarah started again, resolving herself, steeling herself to be firm. “I can’t do this, I can’t participate in this project. And I think that it should be terminated.” 

 

“Let us suppose that I could do this thing, Sarah.” Essex spoke again, mildly, patiently, almost kindly. “What would happen to- Laura?” He was humouring her, using her name. “Termination of the project typically entails termination of the experimental subject.” He set down his tea glass. “I cannot imagine you want that, Sarah.” 

 

“She’s a girl, she needs love, a home. Maybe, I don’t know, she could join the army or something when she’s older and can make her own decisions. The way she’s been brought up, she’d probably  _ want  _ that.” Sarah insisted, but she knew the appeal would fall on deaf ears. He may be pretending to be kind and gentle, but he’d inaugurated the project. 

 

To create a little girl for the sole purpose of killing. A living weapon. 

 

Sarah wondered how he went home to little Annie. What he said when she asked about what he did at work. Sarah wondered if Essex ever had to justify what he did to himself. Or did he regard the ‘termination’ of subjects with the calmness of discussing the perfect cup of tea. 

 

“Sarah.” Essex spoke a little more firmly, in a tone not unlike the one her father would use when he was ‘not angry but disappointed’. “I think you’ve become too close to X-23. You’re not capable of seeing the situation objectively.” He took a sip of his tea. “Perhaps it would be best if you were transferred away.” 

 

_ No. I can’t. Laura needs me.  _

 

Desperation gave her a courage that allowed her to overcome her strange fear of the calm man before her. She set down her teacup.  _ I can’t play Essex’s games. I can’t. I have to stand up for this girl.  _

 

“No. I was blind before. This is wrong. This is  _ evil,  _ Nathaniel.” She stood up and pointed at him, nearly jabbing her finger into his chest. His eyes opened just a touch winder, mildly surprised. The slight emotional reaction made her strangely happy. Maybe she’d rattled him a little. But it meant nothing, nothing at all without Laura. 

 

Laura was her daughter. Sarah had watched her grow, learn, develop. Sarah had given her a name. Sarah had … she’d  _ carried Laura inside her.  _ The artificial womb wasn’t good enough, the scientists had said. They were going to terminate. And in a moment of madness, she’d agreed. She’d had Laura growing inside her body. She was her girl, her daughter and she wouldn’t be a weapon. 

 

She wouldn’t be an object. Laura was going to have a life and be a person and make her own choices. 

 

“Sarah.” Essex spoke softly again. “I’m afraid we can’t do that. You know that. If you wish to leave the program, I can arrange it. A transfer. There need be no unpleasantness, Sarah.” 

 

Desperation gave Sarah Kinney courage, but as she realized that it was fruitless to ask for Laura, it turned into a madness. It was then that her eyes set on the teapot, priceless Victorian heirloom that it was, full of nearly boiling tea. With a movement swifter than she knew she was capable of, she grabbed the teapot and swung it at the side of his head, burning her own hand with the hot tea inside, but splinters of china cutting into his face, hot tea scalding, maybe even blinding him.

 

Sarah kicked at him, bringing him down on the ground, clutching at his face and howling in pain, finally breaking the mask of civilized remove, just a wounded animal. She wished that she had one of the big guns her late husband sometimes used, so she could obliterate him physically, blast his body into red goo. But she didn’t have time for that. She needed to find Laura, and quickly, before someone found out. 

 

Fortunately, she was highly enough ranked that she was able to get through the security doors. The guards no doubt wondered what was up, but they didn’t stop her, herd mentality pushing them against taking initiative. It wouldn’t be long before they came to their senses and she would be in a great deal of trouble. It had to be enough time to find Laura and get her out of the facility. Sometimes she was able to take Laura out on the grounds for desensitization exercises, intended to get her used to being outdoors and blending into groups of people. 

 

Sarah remembered one time when she’d taken Laura out on one of the exercises, convincing the higher-ups that it would make a more convincing disguise if she engaged in ordinary activities. She’d taken her dog with them- Laura had taken to the dog almost instantly, and walked him, played fetch, did the things that any mother might do with their daughter. Finally, just before they returned her, Sarah had bought Laura an ice cream cone. 

 

The higher-ups were angry with that, but it had, at the time, been Essex that had calmed them down, had told them that it was probably for the best that they start giving her ordinary food instead of nutritional supplements anyway. In a cover mission, he’d told them, in that impeccable British accent with the mild tone, she would often have to be obliged to look and act normal. 

 

She went through the final set of security doors where Laura was sleeping- at least she was out of machines now, everyone agreeing that she had to get used to something approaching ordinary human daily rhythms. Sarah went over to her and shook her gently. 

 

“Laura-” 

 

“Dr. Kinney?” The girl’s eyes opened swiftly and looked at her, dark eyes regarding her curiously. She was short and slender but strong, stronger than most full-grown men, let alone girls. 

 

“Laura, we’ve got to get up and go. Quickly.” Sarah tried not to sound too agitated, but it was in vain, she was sure. Laura would be able to  _ smell  _ her panic. To her credit, the girl was out of bed in a flash, without a second’s hesitation. Her reflexes were nothing short of astonishing. 

 

“Okay.” And that was the part that really broke Sarah’s heart, the way she simply agreed and slipped her hand into Laura’s, just like a little girl- one younger than her apparent years. Accelerated growth and memory induction had left her with a strange melange of child-like, adolescent and adult behaviours and capabilities. 

 

“We’ve got to leave the facility, Laura. Quickly. But we need to pretend that nothing is wrong. How quickly can you get dressed?” It would be senseless to even pretend to be taking her out on desensitization if she was dressed in Wonder Woman pajamas. Laura didn’t verbally reply, but stripped out of her pajamas swiftly and started putting on regular clothes. She was done in less than a minute, all told. 

 

“I’m ready to go.” Laura stated as she slipped her hand into Sarah’s. “We need to be quick. The guards will know something is wrong based on your visible emotional affect.” She paused for a moment as they went out of the door. “Can I have ice cream when we’re safe?” 

 

“Yes, Laura.” Sarah gave her hand a little squeeze as they headed out, calmly as they could. “You can have ice cream.”  _ And you can maybe go to school and we can go somewhere far away.  _ She realized that she knew of a place they could be safe. In the news, she’d heard about it. Near New York City. A school for mutants. Laura was a mutant. Maybe they could help. It was worth trying. Anything was worth trying. 

 

The guards seemed to be largely absent though, as they began making their way down the corridor, which was something that was strange to Sarah, unless they’d all gathered around Essex, who was, at the very least, terribly injured.

 

“We should run.” Laura stated emphatically and Sarah was inclined to agree, though it was hard for her to keep up with Laura- even though she knew that Laura wasn’t running as fast as she could. She’d seen the tests. The girl didn’t have to worry about straining her body like ordinary people did, she could run as fast as any Olympian sprinter ever did, but maintain it for far longer periods. They’d stopped the test at two hours, but Laura seemed only mildly tired- Sarah suspected she could’ve kept going another few hours.  _ And her powers aren’t developed yet.  _

 

Sarah wasn’t nearly as fast as Laura, but desperation and adrenaline allowed her to run more quickly than she normally would have- that and the fact that she’d worn her flats today rather than the heels she very often wore. They were most of the way through the gargantuan facility when they finally ran into a body of guards, headed by Dr. Essex, his face terribly burned, shards of fine porcelain sticking into delicate skin, blood running over his face and down the front of his coat. 

 

_ How is that possible? How can a man take damage like that and still walk around like this?  _

 

Laura struck a combat pose instinctively. “Let us go. Dr. Kinney says I have to go.” Sarah realized that Laura didn’t actually have the word to describe the bond that they shared.  _ She doesn’t call me Mommy because she doesn’t know what that words is. I’ll teach her.  _ But first they had to find a way, some way, to get out. Sarah looked around at the guards. They all had guns. If they started running, they’d start firing. 

 

Sarah would never survive.  _ But Laura might. She might. She might be able to keep running.  _

 

“Laura, listen to me.” She could distract them. Do something to distract them to give Laura a head start. Laura was fast, agile and small. She could find her way out somehow. “The Xavier Institute in New York state. You have to go there. You have to run and run and don’t look back until you reach them. I’ll be okay. I’ll keep them busy so you can run.” 

 

“No.” Laura said and Sarah realized she was scared too, but was trying to be brave. “I’m not leaving without you, Dr. Kinney. I’m not leaving without my doctor.”  _ She’s trying. She’s trying to say Mommy.  _

 

Essex’s ruined face shifted before her, the shards of broken porcelain falling out of flesh that seemed to regenerate with a terrifying speed that absolutely beggared even Laura’s regenerative powers. Ordinary, pale skin turned into something far more primally  _ white.  _ Mild brown eyes turned into terrifying glowing red pools. When he smiled his teeth were sharp and Sarah knew, she  _ knew.  _

 

She’d always known. 

 

Nathaniel Essex was the Devil Himself. 

 

“Laura.” She cried, desperately, knowing that she was going to die. “Run. You have to run, Laura. Please run.” But Laura remained where she was, claws popping out of her hands, ready to fight, fight for her ‘doctor’. 

 

Essex made a near invisible gesture and one of the guards fired at Laura, the bullet hitting her in the kneecap, bringing her down to the ground, growling and cursing. 

 

“Laura, run!” Sarah cried and begged. She had to be able to run, even hurt like she was. She could. She could heal quickly. Laura could crawl faster than many men could run. She lunged at Essex, intending to simply  _ rip  _ at him with her fingernails, but he caught her with an incredibly strong grip and tossed her on the ground, right on top of Laura. 

 

“Sarah, that teapot was very valuable. Annie will be most disappointed.” And something about his mentioning the girl now made Sarah want to puke, because suddenly she couldn’t even imagine what he did to her. “And such fine tea wasted.” His lips parted into a small grin and his usual impassive affect vanished completely and she finally saw the monster for what he was, even more so than when he’d changed his face. 

 

It was a sadistic little grin that she could imagine very easily parting Josef Mengele’s lips as he sewed twins together. 

 

“What’s my favorite tea, Sarah?”    
  


It was hopeless. All that was left was defiance. “Fuck you.” Laura had squirmed out from under her. “Laura, run!” 

 

“Darjeeling.” Essex replied with a peculiar emphasis and Sarah Kinney heard a low growl come from Laura, a growl that had nothing to do with a human being and came from something worse than the simply animal. She turned herself over to see Laura looking at her with a crazed, vicious look in her eyes. 

 

“The Xavier Institute, Laura. You have to find them.” She could only pray that they would one day. 

 

The next thing she remembered was the pain as Laura pounced on her, driving slender, but razor sharp claws into her- that pain was hot and slicing and she could feel blood pouring from the horrible wounds. The next pain was at her throat as Laura clamped down with her teeth and  _ ripped  _ and she heard the sound of her own flesh tearing and a gargle that seemed to come from a million miles away but it was from  _ her …  _

 

And above her, the Devil smiled as he watched, broad spatters of blood, like red paint, splashing against his immaculate white lab coat. To him, watching a human being be torn apart was to be taken with the same mild pleasure as a perfect cup of tea. 


End file.
